


The Stars in Spring

by msbiscuits



Series: The Stars in Spring [1]
Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Alternate Universe - Childhood Friends, F/M, First Crush, Love Confessions
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-21
Updated: 2020-04-21
Packaged: 2021-03-01 19:55:11
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,992
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23762674
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/msbiscuits/pseuds/msbiscuits
Summary: Altea's annual Coalition Ball rolls around once again, but the absence of a certain Galra prince is felt keenly by its princess.
Relationships: Allura/Lotor (Voltron)
Series: The Stars in Spring [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1711885
Comments: 2
Kudos: 17





	The Stars in Spring

**Author's Note:**

> Shouldn't be posting this but, to be honest, I don't care anymore! So enjoy! <3

Allura drummed her fingers against the polished marble balustrade of the balcony overlooking the ballroom, gaze casually sweeping the crowd below for the familiar white mane of a certain prince. She half expected him to be loitering around the banquet table, piled high with sugary custards and pastries, succulent meats, crisp fruits and vegetables, fully prepared to steal a plate or two of rich chocolate cake all for himself. He was, however, nowhere to be seen, and she should’ve come to expect his absence just as well.

She still wasn’t quite sure _why_ she was searching for him. He’d become increasingly insufferable since his envoy’s arrival from Daibazaal. Where he would usually tease her relentlessly during their outings with the other young royals, he instead avoided her like she had a severe case of the slipperies. It left her bitter and unsettled, but mostly desperate for answers from the man himself.

Before she could dwell much further on the subject, her mother approached to her right, a knowing smile playing at her lips. “Looking for someone?”

“Oh— I, um… no…” She dipped her chin to her chest, fingers unconsciously toying with a curl unfastened from her bun. There was no way she could possibly know, right? She clung to the first excuse she could think of: “I was just admiring the decor. Lovely tapestries they’ve hung up this evening.”

Melenor’s laughter warmed her, though her reply to her paltry explanation nearly stopped her heart. “Rest easy, sweetling. Prince Lotor should be here soon.”

Allura’s widened gaze snapped to her mother before narrowing in annoyance. Both at her and the wayward prince. “Prince Lotor,” she mocked. “He can board the next ship back to Daibazaal for all I care.”

Her mother freed the errant strand of hair from her hold and neatly tucked it back into the intricate updo. “And what has he done this time?”

“He… _He’s…_ ” … _been_ _avoiding me, and it hurts more than I’d care to admit_. Sure, their bickering evolved to teasing fairly recently, and they aggravated each other to Oriande and back more times than she could count, but by all the ancients, she actually _missed_ him. And damn, she could imagine his smug smile if he ever found that out, fangs on display and everything. But who could blame her? Nearly two decaphoebs passed since she had last seen him, her closest friend, with barely any words exchanged from his last visit until now.

Surely he missed her as much as she did him?

“Just speak to him, hm? It’s no good bottling up emotions,” Melenor encouraged, sweeping her up into her arms in an affectionate squeeze. “Mend this. I cannot lose Zarkon from our treasured knitting sessions simply because our children have a penchant for melodrama.”

“ _Mother!_ ”

Melenor jostled her, her laugh bright and ringing like a bell. It drew the attention of a handful of royals, including her father, from the ballroom floor. “A jest, it was a jest!”

It wasn’t.

“I’m leaving now.”

“My, such a withering look,” the queen teased with mock offense, completely unruffled by the look of disdain aimed at her. “Try not to glare so much, darling. At this rate, you’ll have your great-aunt Aurel’s wrinkles by next decaphoeb.”

That suggestion hardly mattered not even thirty doboshes later. Not with Lotor’s palpable absence, and especially not with the way every prince in attendance rejected her invitation for a dance. She could practically feel the other princesses giggling behind her back.

Had she become ripe? Did her breath smell? Did she offend?

“Lotor wouldn’t allow it.” Prince Bokar seemed to be the only one brave enough to provide answers. All his sharp teeth showed in his smirk. “Said if we so much as laid a finger on you, there’d be consequences.”

“Lotor…?” Her laugh was weak at best; frail and on the end of a breath. “You must be mistaken.”

Threatening their friends with violence? Over _her_? Dancing with others was hardly an issue before, nor the harmless flirting — that alone was preposterous enough. Unendingly kind and introspective as he was, she couldn’t imagine him ever delivering on those promises.

And yet…

She paid witness to those moments of anger and frustration plenty of times before. Certainly never directed at her, or at least not in earnest; not since they both toddled around their parent’s ankles. Bouts of possessiveness too, but that was usually reserved towards Kova and other frivolous objects like cloying sweets and dusty tomes. That anger and possessiveness had rarely been at her expense.

 _No._ To impose on her in such a way — _staking a claim on her? Bokar must truly think her an idiot_ — wasn’t like him. She’d even dare say she knew Lotor better than she knew herself. And while her heart despaired at Bokar’s words, her mind nagged at the strings of her better judgement. She wasn’t one to be a braggart, but her gut instinct never led her astray thus far.

“You’re my friend, Allura. Would I ever lie to you?”

He would.

_He would._

* * *

Altea’s twin moons were high among the blanket of stars by the time Lotor arrived at the Castle of Lions. Revelers, including King Alfor himself, were drunk off the revolting combination of juniberry tarts and nunvill, barely holding themselves upright with their partners on the ballroom floor. He might’ve joined in on the fun if Kova hadn’t made him so unforgivably late; tearing his doublet to shreds and subsequently ruining his plans to sweep Allura off her feet (or at least attempt to, anyway).

It was a betrayal of the worst kind. Forget stealing cured meats for that blasted cat later.

And maybe he was just a sucker for punishment, but he didn’t think the evening beyond salvation… that is until Bokar caught his eye across the room. It wasn’t that ubiquitous air of smug self-confidence that gave him away, nor the glint of deranged mirth breathing life in those emotionless eyes, but rather that unsettling smirk that only ever showed up when he got exactly what he wanted.

_Allura…_

He found her in a pavilion at the edge of the castle gardens, alone and soaking up the moonbeams. She must have been sitting there for quite some time, judging by how fiercely her markings glowed throughout her body; practically iridescent and as blue as ice (it was hard to miss her, really). They lit up her shimmering gown like the cosmos.

 _Beautiful._ And a damn shame no one else would witness her in all her loveliness.

“Lu…?”

She startled at his voice, and the look of shock quickly paved way to the gentlest of smiles. “You’re missing out on the party. Corral and Merla kept needling me to get you to dance with them.”

A spike of irritation coursed through him. How was she so calm? Bokar must have told her some twisted form of the truth, so why bring them up instead? “...Did they.”

She gave him a demure nod before tilting her face back up towards the stars. “Mm. Who knew you were so popular.”

How peculiar. In her anger, she’d usually poke and prod him to annoyance, or even tug on his hair. But _this…_ this was something else entirely. For the second time that movement, Lotor felt completely out of his element. Oddly enough, he didn’t mind it. Not when it came to her, at least.

“May I sit by you?”

Another nod.

It was a tight squeeze on the bench — his fault entirely, thanks to his clunky armor and recent growth spurt — but Allura didn’t seem bothered by it. In fact, he could swear she was leaning against his arm, but perhaps it was just so she wouldn’t fall off.

An uneasy silence fell, with only the chirps of the papilumes filling the space between them. Until—

“Why?”

It was only one word, but it managed to make his heart sink to his stomach. The best he could do was feign ignorance.

“Why… did I want to sit here? Because I wanted to be close to you.” _Smooth._ Even Bokar would give him a thumbs up for that, the scumbag.

The marks on her cheekbones flared hot pink, and her brows drew together in indignation. “That’s not—!” She huffed, folding her arms firmly across her chest. “You know what I mean, Lotor. I don’t even care about the _what_. I gathered enough information from the others while you were away.”

“And they told you the truth?”

“Not at first.” A self-satisfied smile pulled at her lips. “I had to twist their arm for it. _Literally._ They were perfectly willing to relinquish details after that.”

She made him chuckle despite the somber air, a feat few could manage at all. The image of her wreaking havoc on their peers in the middle of the peace talk ball was a humorous one. If only he were there to witness it himself. He shook his head. As sweet as sin one dobosh, then roughhousing the next. It was a wonder he kept up with her at all after all these decaphoebs. But he wouldn’t have her any other way.

Allura nudged his arm with her shoulder when the silence began to stretch again, fingers curled delicately atop his forearm. Her markings lit up her eyes, attracting the lavender to a stunning glow. “Just be honest with me. Please?”

_She knew._

About how Bokar made insinuations about them— _about her._ About how their “friends” planned on ruining her at the ball for no other reason than Bokar’s sickening amusement. About his threats against them in his poor attempt to protect her. About his long unspoken feelings for her.

She knew it all.

And yet after uncovering the truth, she chose to remain in his company. Not Bokar or the other princes.

_Him._

...Honesty. He could give her that much.

“I made you something in my quintants of solitude.”

“Lotor—”

The hiss of his chest compartment cut her off, and there he handed her its contents: a single hairpin. Small and delicate, and shaped like Daibazaal’s native flower, the Zithrov, a symbol of beauty and resolve amidst the sweltering wasteland of his home planet. Carved, too, from a Harasi crystal from the Kyrkatti System. Extremely rare, and infinitely more powerful than a Balmera’s. It pulsed a near blinding white from her energy.

Allura nestled it in her hands, awe and delight completely taking over her expression. She always did love sparkly things.

“So you know I’m with you always even when we’re apart. It’s a symbol of my… of my lo—”

A prompt kiss to his cheek prevented him from saying anything more. He sat frozen, blood rushing to his cheeks as she withdrew, completely powerless as he watched Allura proudly tuck the hairpin into her bun.

_Perfection._

Her hand easily slid into his — immediately drawing his claws out — as her head tucked against his shoulder _._ She was so _warm._ “I love you.”

Lotor pouted despite the flurry of papilumes in his stomach and the pounding of his heart. “You beat me to it…”

Allura pinched his cheek, an action she was privy to for as long as he remembered, even more so now that they were older. All that was missing was the ear pulling. “You’re supposed to say it back, you know.”

“Oh, am I?”

“Don’t be like that,” she giggled, cuddling impossibly closer. “I love you. Don’t you love me, too? Or am I reading things wrong?”

His fingers curled tight around hers. “I do.” He brought her hand to his lips in a kiss, observing as the rest of her markings blossomed a brilliant pink. Her smile rivaled in radiance. How fortunate must he be being the recipient of a heart so freely given, at having a love so easily requited. And from the woman who held such precedence throughout his life. Luck didn’t even begin to cover it.

“I love you, too, Allura.”


End file.
